


Interview

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Pre-Game(s), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 13:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12706173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "〇〇〇, you really want to be on the show, don't you?"The interview after the audition.(Feels kind of gross.)





	Interview

"I'll do anything to get on Danganronpa."

 

* * *

 

You hear those words so often. Who doesn't want to be a star? They always say the same thing, that they'll do anything. _Anything_. Most of them don't make the cut. They don't have anything to offer. You see so many people that they all blend together, an endless parade of beggars and wannabe stars.

But something about this particular boy, something about his feverish energy- it stands out to you, draws you in. That's why he's here right now. Even though he looks so unassuming, as unnoticeable as a piece of furniture, as soon as he speaks something about him turns magnetic. After you watched the interview tapes, you couldn't get him out of your head.

He might be plain, but maybe his plainness is part of the charm. You can work with that. You think you really will put him on the show.

Not that you're going to tell him that yet.

"Oh? Really?"

"Yes!" His eyes are wide and fixated on you and only you. Not that's particularly noteworthy. There's nothing else to look at in here, after all. They're fairly unusual eyes, actually, big, a pale gold-grey. They almost seem to shine in the low light. He has beautiful eyelashes. They're so long, it's almost ridiculous. He's good at hiding it, but he's really pretty, actually. The audience will like that. You imagine making it a big reveal. Ta-da! You didn't know it but he was beautiful all along.

He drops to his knees in your silence. He prostrates himself before you, forehead smashing on the floor with a hard clack. You can almost feel it in your skull. It _almost_ makes you want to wince in sympathy. But you don't. Why?

"I-I swear. Anything. I'll do anything." He mewls pathetically, face pressed against the carpet. Sweat runs down his face in heavy rivulets. You hope it won't stain the floor.

You ignore his words. To do otherwise, well... that's a good way to get into trouble. Oh, you've seen the fallout. Not that _you've_ ever done anything like that, oh no.

"Why do you want to be on the show?" You sound bored. You are bored. You can make do without the theatrics. You've seen it all before.

He whispers into the floor.

"I really want to die."

What a way to start it off! But you're not particularly surprised. It's not something you haven't heard before. You don't say anything. That's how it works. He'll keep talking.

But, to your disappointment, he goes off in a different direction.

"...I-I'm a really plain person. I'm not good at much of anything... I don't really have much going for me..." He trails off into a mumble, eyes wide, staring hard into the ground, before he suddenly jerks his head up, shaking with conviction.

"B-but! I've _always_ loved Danganronpa! Y-you saw my interview, r-right!? W-well s-sorry... I shouldn't... assume..." You want to roll your eyes. _Of course. Why else would you be here?_ But then few of them ever have any confidence. He smiles weakly but his face is flushed a brilliant red and his eyes are hard, harsh, and you know he truly means what he says, believes in it like religion. Now _that's_ what you're looking for.

"W-well... whenever I was unhappy. I knew I always had Danganronpa to look forward to. I-I'm old enough to apply now, so... I knew that was what... I had to do. I _have_ to be on the show."

His voice weakens again, like it's a strain for him to keep going. "I won't be able to get a good job or anything... a-and, my parents don't have a lot of money, so..."

You knew that already, too. You didn't even have to look it up. It's easy enough to see from his cheap, baggy suit and how ratty his hat is.

"So you're doing this for your parents? Do they know you've applied?"

He isn't. They don't. You know the story. But, hey, if you're old enough, you're old enough. They don't get a say.

"...they don't want me to go on. They don't know... about this, but I want this. _I want this_. I-it's not about them." He weakly slams his fists into the floor. For emphasis, you think, but it almost cheapens his words. Makes it seem like a joke. His hands are small and pale. He's still smiling, but it's shot through with something nervous now, like a sneer.

"You don't really care about the money."

He looks shocked, but it doesn't really reach his eyes. It feels like a ploy. Hollow. He laughs.

"H-how could I? I'll be dead!"

 _You don't necessarily have to die, you know._ And you don't think he will. He's too good to waste on a death. Won't that be a nice irony? You imagine his face when he realizes the truth. The shock! The despair! The audience'll love that, too. It'll make great ratings. But, still...

"So if I've got this right, from what you're telling me..." You look down at the notepad in your hands, considering it carefully like you're deep in thought. It's blank. "...your parents don't actually know you're here. You don't have any talents. Nothing about you is interesting at all. Why should I put you on the show?"

Now that actually gets him. His mouth drops open. He's shaking again.

"P-please! Please!"

He seriously crawls forward on his hands and knees. He whiiiiines at your feet, drawing his breath in heady gasps that sound like he's about to cry. P-please. P-please. He winds himself around your legs, fish-white hands clammy with sweat. It sticks to your pants and you swear you can feel him leaving stains. His fingers are cold and you can't help but shiver with disgust. _Yes. He's perfect_. You kick him off and he stares up at you desperately.

"Y-you're right! I'm worthless... g-good for nothing! I don't have anything else to live for! Please! I want to die for Danganronpa... I-I've got ideas! Character designs! Storylines! I've already thought of so many executions and I have notebooks full of murder plans! I can show you!" He's talking way too fast. You can barely catch the meaning, his words and eyes roiling wild with desperation and despair. Jeez. He wasn't _about_ to cry. He's actually crying, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks, mixing with the sweat. Pretty disgusting. He'd make a good mastermind, you think. Too bad that role's not open to the public.

If he can't be the mastermind, why not make him the hero, instead?

You like that idea. It'd be even more ironic.

"You can stop now," you say, sounding bored as ever.

"Please... I _need_ to be on the show..."

Usually, you like keeping them in suspense, but this kid... who knows what he'd do.

So you tell him.

(But not everything.)

 


End file.
